


After the Jog

by icedteainthebag



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-09
Updated: 2015-09-09
Packaged: 2018-04-19 22:40:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4763690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icedteainthebag/pseuds/icedteainthebag
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scully watches Mulder jog and brings him bagels.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After the Jog

**Author's Note:**

> Imported from Gossamer; original published date March 30, 2000. I was in the throes of youth, so please forgive any clichés, faux pas, or misuse of commonly known words.

He likes to jog in the mornings, in the summer on the weekends.

And I like to watch him.

He hasn't ever noticed, or acknowledged me anyway, as I indulge in my secret pleasure of watching him run around the park a few blocks from his apartment building. It all began one early morning when I was stopping by with a surprise breakfast, just some bagels and cream cheese, nothing fancy, really. He would think it was strange if I brought him pancakes or made him an omelet. That's just the way he is.

I was in my car, pulling into a very tight parallel space across the street when I saw him emerge from the doors, wearing a nice grey t-shirt and, to my pleasure, some mesh shorts that lightly grazed against the skin halfway down his thighs. I just sat in my car, frozen, staring at him and  subconsciously drawing hair behind my ear as II felt a juvenile flush spread over my face. His hair, dark and disheveled from sleep, fell across his forehead as he leaned over to stretch his long arms down to his feet. He arched his back and I could practically hear the morning groan he surely was releasing under his breath. It rendered me speechless, my own breath catching in my throat as I watched him stretch his legs and arms, watched him slowly roll his head over his shoulders as if he were performing some graceful erotic movement for my eyes only.

Too quickly for my liking, he had then trotted down the stairs, and I just had to follow him. Follow him all the way to the park, where he soon found a trail and was quickly out of eyesight of the thin road where I had pulled along the side.

I had left then, my courage rapidly depleting as I silently shunned myself for my voyeuristic attitude. However, now that I knew where he ran, it was just a matter of being in the right place at the right time in order to catch a glimpse of him again.

So it became something of a weekend ritual for me, driving to the park and finding a place to sit in my car and watch for him to run by. When I was feeling really daring, I would venture into the small wooded areas surrounding what seemed to be his favorite trail and wait for him.

He never disappointed me, especially when the weather got warmer and he decided it was the time of the year for nice, loose tank tops that draped from his broad shoulders, dark sweat spots sometimes sticking to the skin of his back or stomach.

Every morning I wished I could be one of those tank tops, clinging to his hot sweaty skin, feeling his heartbeat quicken, hearing his hard breath as he kept going... and going... and going.

I continued my observations for several weeks; I don't know why, really... but I always told myself I deserved to get some sort of excitement out of the weekend and watching him was as good as anything else I could think of. Besides being with him.

And that thought is what led me to his apartment door this Saturday morning, after I watched him get back from his jog. I knew he would be showering within that next ten minutes, and I wanted to catch him right as he got out and make it seem coincidental. This venture was something for my own enjoyment more than anything--seeing Mulder in a towel would give me fodder for fantasies well into the rest of the weekend.

I knock loudly on the door, precisely fifteen minutes after he entered his building, allowing for time to get up the elevator and remove his clothes before stepping into the shower. I figure if he doesn't answer, he's still in there, and I will knock again in a minute or two. I hear locks on the door turn as I step away from it. This is it. This is really it. I can only hope that he's...

"Hey, Scully," he says, peeking his head around the door. Wet tendrils of hair over his forehead drip water onto his face and he brushes it up with a hand. I am breathless for a split second before smiling.

"Mulder," I reply, lifting up my paper sack from the bagel shop. "Bagels?"

"Cream cheese?" he asks, opening the door a little wider. I see his bare stomach and chest but don't dare to look down; that would be too obvious.

"You know it," I answer, shaking the bag a little. He smiles and opens the door wide and I glance down to see that he has a nice towel snugly wrapped around his hips. I have to drag my eyes back up to his face, but they take a nice leisurely trip up his body in the meantime. He is barely dry, water still beaded on the soft hairs of his chest that darkens as it gets lower on his stomach. The towel is so low I can see his belly button and the line of hair that begins there and travels down. His arms and shoulders glisten in the light of the room as I walk in, setting my bag down on the kitchen counter and catching a sneak peek at his smooth, wet back and perfectly rounded ass under the towel.

Now we're both wet.

"Why... why don't I make these," I finally say as he turns to me, smiling and stretching his arms over his head with a groan. I hope and pray and plead that the little white towel will fall but it doesn't. I sigh and open the bag, the crinkling loud in the otherwise quiet apartment.

"Good," he replies, running a hand through his wet hair, slicking it back a bit. "I'm starving."

"Did you have a nice jog this morning?" I ask, without thinking, until I say it of course. Then I feel myself blush a bit, hoping that he doesn't realize that somehow, I knew what he was doing.

He raises his eyebrows and smiles at me. "Yeah I did. How did you know I went jogging?"

Frantic. Frantic, frantic. "I uh... I saw you," I say, pulling the bagels out of the bag and focusing my eyes on them. "I saw you just as you were getting back."

He nods and walks over to me, and really, I wonder if he even realizes what he's doing to me. I'm getting more flustered now, butterflies fluttering their wings in my stomach. I'm almost queasy with anticipation and nervousness as I take out the cream cheese and set it on the table next to the bagels. "What kind of cream cheese?" he asks, running his arm along the counter and standing right... next... to... me.

I can feel the heat and moisture radiating from his skin. "Umm... just... normal." Normal? "Plain." That's it.

"Oh, Scully," he says, tilting his head to the side. I feel a tiny bit of water from his hair hit my cheek and I have to keep myself from shuddering. "You know I like strawberry."

He's so close to me I can feel his energy. He's just barely clothed; I could take the towel in my hand and pull it away and he'd be standing right next to me, totally naked. What would he do? He wouldn't run. He would probably just stand there, looking at me with this curious, what-are-you-doing look that would make me feel like I was three inches tall.

"They didn't have it," I finally sigh, looking up into his eyes for the first time in minutes that seemed like hours. They're different right now... deeper. Is that a tinge of interest? Does he realize what he's doing to me? Questions race through my mind as I pull my eyes away once again, searching for a knife on the counter.

"That's too bad," he answers, walking around me to a drawer and opening it. He grabs a knife and comes up behind me, handing it over. I accept with a shaking hand and begin to cut into the first bagel, carefully, as steadily as I can with him about five inches behind me.

"You're not cutting it evenly." Mulder reaches in front of me and grabs my hand to make me stop. I gasp softly and instantly admonish myself for being such a flake. "Haven't you ever cut bagels before, Scully?"

"Yeah..." I say, my voice drifting off into nothing. I can't think, can't speak, can't reason, can't feel anything but his hips as they brush up against mine. And then I feel his soft breath against the side of my neck.

He stays there for a long moment of time, several seconds, breathing in deeply the scent of my perfume which I loaded on for my little breakfast visit. Maybe I shouldn't have put on so much. He breathes out against my skin and I feel goosebumps spread over my whole body with a cool tingle.

"Scully..." he starts, his hand coming up to brush the hair against my neck aside. I breathe in sharply, let go of the bagel and the knife and grab the counter white-knuckled. "I know you didn't come over here for the bagels."

Oh my God.

His lips press against my neck with a nudge that almost knocks me over. I steady myself with a soft, surprised moan as I feel the soft warmth of them on me. He moves them, barely touching, down to the juncture of my neck and shoulder and back up to my ear, taking it between his lips and sucking gently. My shaking knees almost buckle and I lean back against him, feeling his hot, slightly damp skin through the fabric of my t-shirt.

"You were watching me jog," he whispers into my ear as he runs one hand up the side of my thigh and my hip. I moan softly again, feeling a little electric jolt through my lower body. "How long have you been watching me?"

"A... while," I breathe, pulling my hands from the counter and digging my fingernails into my thighs. I want to reach around behind me, to yank down that towel aand feel him fully against my body, hot and lean, naked and exposed to my hands and my mouth.

Fantasy is rapidly becoming reality, I realize hazily as he tugs up at my t-shirt and pulls it up my stomach. I lift my arms in a reflex, cautiously, and he removes the shirt almost too quickly for me to realize what he has just done. It takes a few seconds for my mind to catch up with the events, but when he presses his chest against my back, the touch of my bare skin on his sends me deeper into my lustful haze.

Mulder slides his hands across my sides and stomach, meeting in the center and moving up to cup my breasts. I push into them with a sigh, tilting my head back against his shoulder and turning to smell the water on his skin. I flick out my tongue to taste it and he groans low in his throat, so I do it again, sliding it over the defined tendon of his neck. He tastes unbelievably good, plain but sensual.

"I've wanted to do this," he whispers, "for so long... so long." It's like music to my ears, an exact reiteration of the feelings I've had for years, every time he spoke my name, every time we exchanged a glance or touched hands. My sigh is my only response as he kneads my breasts with careful hands.

I move one hand back against his thigh, the place where the terrycloth ends and the skin begins, and slide my thumb under it lightly. I press against the hard thigh muscle and it presses back. My hand, as if it has a mind of its own, slides up under the terry cloth, feeling his leg as it meets his hip, skin and air getting hotter and hotter as his bated breath meets my shoulder. His mouth follows, tongue tracing my collarbone lightly.

I turn around, not able to stand the anticipation any longer, and he pulls my head toward him and kisses me full on the lips, our noses meeting before I tilt to the side and our tongues begin to greet each other for the first time. It's a slow, lengthy process, one that I'm truly enjoying, and Mulder is too, considering the length of hardness now pressed against my lower stomach.

"Scully," he says against my lips, kissing me harder this time, pulling my tongue deep into his mouth and sucking on it. The continual warmth cascading down my body threatens to drown me. He reaches around my back and unsnaps my bra, sliding it down my arms and pushing it to the floor while our kiss deepens even more. Now I have his tongue, and what a fine tongue it is as it swirls around my mouth.

Mulder runs his hands over my lower back and up, and soon his soft touch is everywhere and anywhere; I can feel the warmth of his hands as they run over my skin, never stopping. Up my stomach, over my hardened nipples to hear and feel my gasp against his mouth, over my arms and down to hold my hands tightly in his. He pulls away slightly, opening his eyes as I do. We exchange a glance that I could only describe as amused and dazed.

I push my hands around his waist, sliding my fingers under the towel and waiting for any objection to cross his face. The side of his mouth lifts in a smile and I push down against the towel with a smile in return. My heart jumps as it falls at our feet, my eyes caught in his as I bite my lip and wonder what the hell I should do next.

Then the amazing transforms into the incredible as he takes my right hand and gently tugs on it, pulling it lower until it's resting on his lower stomach right above his cock. I have to concentrate on breathing, for fear of passing out at the feeling of his hot skin, of the idea of my hand being so near to him. I slide my hand down and then tentatively wrap my fingers around him, whimpering softly as I feel it twitch under my soft palm. Mulder closes his eyes and breathes out slowly, the look on his face bordering on bliss. And I want more. More of that.

I slide my hand up the length of his shaft, smooth and hot, gaining a little bit more composure as he releases a satisfied moan and pushes into my hand. I lean in, pressing my lips against his chest as I slide my hand back down, starting a slow rhythm with his hips as they move with me. I run my fingers over the head, feeling the silkiness of it and then run them under his cock, down to his balls for a light squeeze that makes me get that electric twinge inside again. I'm finding that pleasing him turns me on more than I could ever imagine. And he groans, grabbing my wrist and pulling it away.

"No more," he whispers urgently, and I drop my hand to my side. His fingers find the button of my pants and undo it, unzipping them and sliding them down before I have a chance to argue. Not that I would. I step out of them just in time for him to cup me through my panties, his fingers working between my spread legs and pressing up against me.

"Oh Mulder," I moan, feeling a hard throb begin where his hand is gently kneading and working my flesh. A rush of heat fills me up. I press against him more and he kisses me hard, quieting my soft sounds. 

His hands slide up to the waistband of my panties and push them down as well, and I let him, my arousal threatening to take over my body completely to the point where I become a quivering pile of what used to be Dana Scully.

Fingers move quickly up the insides of my thighs, and I part them more, steadying myself back against the counter as he slides a few gentle fingers across my wet folds, pushing a little deeper with each stroke. They reach my clitoris and circle around it, dragging wetness up from my opening and rubbing more urgently as I arch my back and moan. His lips move down my neck to my breasts and he latches on to a nipple, sucking and biting.

Heat builds under his caress as he slides them down to my opening, working me open with two gentle fingertips and sliding easily inside me; I've never been this wet, ever, and I whimper and clench my muscles around them, subconsciously moving my hips back and forth as he begins to slide his fingers in and out.

"You like that," he whispers as he lets my nipple pop out of his mouth with a final suck. He moves his mouth to the other and nibbles on it; I shiver and moan, tingles traveling down my spine and hitting all the spots he's touching inside of me. "You're so wet, Scully..."

Oh God, and he talks dirty too...

"Yeah," I moan, feeling his thumb press against my clitoris and rub in hard circles. Little fireworks begin to explode, building up and threatening to overcome me. "Yeah, Mulder... do that."

I feel his mouth move down my stomach, past my belly button, and realize he's now down on his knees and spreading my legs further apart, and I know what he's going to do and I really don't know if I can handle it, as I whimper and feel his breath against my thigh...

Mulder presses his lips against my flesh, pushing his tongue deep through it and against my clitoris in a fluid movement that renders me helplessly paralyzed. Each circle he runs around it brings me closer and closer to orgasm, and with a few hard rubs against me I'm gone, falling over the edge and panting his name and God's name and every other possible word I can manage as the waves of pleasure shoot up through me.

He hums a little against me as I calm, kissing the insides of my thighs. I shudder, feeling a telltale twitch and afterglow spreading over my skin. Moving his mouth up my body again, he finally gets to his feet and pulls me upright, wrapping his arms around my waist and kissing my neck. I sigh, melting into his arms.

"Glad you came over," he says finally, resting his lips against the top of my head. He kisses through my hair and I sigh again, sliding my arms around his neck and pressing my face into his chest.

"Mmmm... me too," I say with a smile, pulling away to look up into his eyes. He smiles back and kisses my forehead. I'm warm, and happy, and feeling pretty damn good.

"So... do you want me to make some bagels?" he asks, rubbing my lower back and kissing me softly. "You could go get... do whatever you need to do... in the bathroom or whatever."

I laugh a little, smiling up at him. What a man. I could get used to this. "That sounds good... sorry about that whole cream cheese thing."

He grins a little more. "You'll just have to come back tomorrow morning with the right kind, that's all."

I could definitely get used to this.


End file.
